


What A Dick

by lafayettesdick



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alex is kind of a dick, Hamiltwat, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Its okay because so is Thomas, M/M, Meanies, This one hurt a little bit to write, from a oneshot account on instagram, i think i spelled that wrong, im not plagiarizing, its ok though i corun the account, kinda cute, tjeffs, very edited compared to the original
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-11 18:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7903129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lafayettesdick/pseuds/lafayettesdick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexander owes Thomas Jefferson something of his choice, in return for letting the compromise that happened in secrecy lean in Hamilton's favor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What A Dick

**Author's Note:**

> It's a oneshot from my co-running oneshot account on Instagram. I didn't know what to do with my AO3 account and my partner and I have not written our next chapter for a different story so we kinda gave up.
> 
> Have fun reading this and check out our insta! If not, don't worry, I will post my favorite ones on here.
> 
> This is highly edited compared to the one on our account. Like... This would be a freshly opened 2-liter bottle of Dr. Pepper (or Coca-cola) and then the oneshot on instagram that this started out as is like a watered down 12 oz. can of Diet Pepsi.

"I don't have to listen to you, Jefferson." Alexander was bickering once more with his natural rival, Thomas. This time it happened to be over a topic insanely irrelevant. The difference laid in that they were not at their usual work building. This was away from where Washington had control over Hamilton- had the ability to make him stop and let the other either speak or leave. Washington acted as a filter, or a break pedal when it came to Hamilton's non-stop flow of angry words and strong arguments. Though, with Washington absent and a good amount of tension between the two politicians, there was no say in what the argument would lead to and who would walk away victorious. The whole conflict had sparked from a single question. Neither of them remembered what the question was, however.

  
"In case you have forgotten, Hamilton," Thomas grew a shit-eating grin, "you owe me." The memories flooded back and Hamilton's eyes widened. The very beginning of their conversation had started with some sort of mention for pay for a certain event in recent past. It wasn't long ago that Hamilton, Jefferson, and Madison were all in the large dining room, conflicting politely (for the most part) and throwing cold glances at each other in hopes of all three getting what they want. Jefferson had allowed the odds to tip in Hamilton's favor, much to James' disappointment, but Thomas had promised him that he'd make sure they got good from it too.

  
"I don't owe you anything!" Alex glanced off to his side, remembering how he'd been given a freebie by the Secretary of State. Some compromises had yet to be upheld. Thomas tisked, walking toward the smaller man. By that point, the two were off of the sidewalk and in between the two buildings either of them had exited from, at coincidentally the same time.

  
"Why, of course you do, Alexander." He chuckled. "Though, of course, I could simply publish a little article explaining what exactly went down in the room where all this happened." Jefferson leaned downward a little, taunting Alexander and testing his patience. Alexander wasn't one to hold back, and especially since Washington was not present at the dinner that had taken place that night, he had said some things that would not exactly have made him look good in the press; and it was Thomas' word over his, so there was no way he could deny what had happened, if an article _was_ to be published. This only worried him slightly, but he did not show it.

  
"What do you want?" Alex wasn't one to break his word (usually). Thomas considered it for a moment. _What do I want?_ A small smirk grew on the man's face and Alexander watched carefully. Thomas backed him to the wall, leaning down toward him. "Well?" Thomas didn't answer him with words.

  
Thomas' lips pressed to Hamilton's, and the man's eyes widened in a horrified manner. Three-thousand thoughts ran through his mind at once and not a single one made sense as to why it was happening. The kiss didn't break, and Jefferson pressed harder, telling Hamilton, with actions, rather than words, to kiss him back. Alex shut his eyes tightly and let himself kiss back. Not that Thomas was a bad kisser, lord no, though just the fact that it was Thomas of all people. He'd rather have Washington's fist up his- _oh god no wrong time to think of that Alexander._  Alexander slowly let himself relax as Thomas became more gentle. He tried his best to let it be enjoyable, seeing as this was one of the oddest and most wrong requests he could ever have gotten from Thomas Jefferson, the oh-so-royal king of the _official_ Hamilton hate club. He never dared break the connection between the two of them and felt Thomas bite at Alexander's bottom lip. Alex didn't expect it and it caught him off guard, making the smaller man blush.

  
Alexander wasn't proud of what happened next. Thomas got rougher, and Alexander started to not mind as much. Eventually, the French kiss was introduced, and well executed. Their bodies got closer to the point where Alexander thought that the only thing keeping the two from skin-to-skin contact nearly everywhere was their clothes. The tension, the heat between the two, and the force that Thomas put onto Alexander, with just enough back from the smaller man for him to tell that he was indeed enjoying it; everything was intense. Then just when Alexander thought Thomas would try to go all the way- he stopped. Jefferson took less than two moments to unlatch Alexander from him and wipe himself off. The sad look in Alexander's eyes let him know that his goal was accomplished.

  
Thomas walked away as if nothing happened. He straightened his jacket, licked his lips, fixed his hair, then spat at the ground close to Alexander. The man wanted more than anything to see Alexander's reaction; to create more between the two that could be used as material for another, larger argument- while still satisfying the darker side of him that kept him from ever wanting to hurt the man. Sure, he got what he wanted. Did he regret it? Of course, but he was mostly satisfied with the reaction he got. Before he walked away, he gave Hamilton another glance.

Alexander was stunned- glued to the spot in which he was pressed to a wall moments before. His mind took time to process what he'd done. Jefferson and him had too much sexual tension, usually when debating in each other's offices due to harsh e-mails sent back and forth. His eyes were heavy with guilt. Regret. He had never thought that something like this would have ever happened, so in turn, he had never thought of how it would end or how to react to it. His eyes followed up to look at Jefferson, another action he'd regret as he saw the despicable hatred gleaming out of the corner of them. The man dressed in an outrageous suit left without another word and Alexander sunk to the floor. He was confused.

 

Thomas won.


End file.
